You're Still You
by De-Femme
Summary: AU: Kurt Wagner has never had it easy. But just when he thinks it couldn't get any worse, it does. How can he deal with being a teenager, a mutant, and blue and furry all at once?


AN: Hey, guess what! This is my first fic! I am a touch nervous, cause I've never done this before, but I am open to all Flames, compliments, or suggestions.  
  
Now be warned, this is an AU, and its about Kurt getting his appearance, along with his mutation, all at once. I know this has been done before, but hopefully mine is still unique enough that people like it.  
  
Also be warned that this fic is pretty much complete, but if you want me to write more, don't hesitate to ask. I am a friendly person, (psh. Yeah right. ::snicker:: ) and I don't bite often. I was thinking about doing some one-shots that will follow this story line, so if you have any ideas, schemes, plots, pranks, or ponderings, just click on that hot little button down there which I love so much. (Reveiws are good. Reveiw, and I will be your friend.)  
  
Disclaimer: .Damn penguins.  
  
You're Still You  
  
"Kurt! Get down here!" Kurt Wagner groaned, pulling a pillow over his head. He knew he probably should be getting up, but it was just too early. Why can't school start a little bit later? "Kurt! Up! Now!"  
"Ungh," he rolled over, kicking his sheets to the end of his bed and wearily putting his feet on the floor. He started to stand up and a sharp pain shot up his spine. "Ah! Schiesse," he winced. His back had been giving him a lot of trouble recently. He had thought about talking to his parents about it, but decided against it. It was probably just growing pains or something stupid like that. He grimaced and pushed himself up from his bed, grabbing some clothes and walking down the hall into the bathroom.  
"Kurt! Hurry up! You need to eat your breakfast before you leave," his mother called absentmindedly from the kitchen.  
Kurt walked gingerly down the stairs to the kitchen. His back was hurting even worse then before. I should take some sort of medicine or pain killer before I go. His mother set some food on the table in front of him and a wave of hunger took over him. He dug greedily into his food, as his mother looked at him skeptically.  
"You sure are hungry this morning," he shrugged and swallowed a mouthful of waffles.  
"I'm hungry every morning."  
She raised her eyebrows. "Yes, but usually you take time to breathe between bites." He snorted and continued to cut up his waffle. He and his Mother always joked around like this every morning, and they had a lot of inside jokes between them that drove his father crazy when he would say something and they would randomly burst out laughing.  
She smiled to herself and turned away, shaking her head. Then she saw the clock. "Kurt! Hurry up! You're going to be late again!"  
Kurt grabbed his things, shoving one last bite into his mouth then gave his mother a quick hug and ran out the door. He headed towards the bus stop, just in time to catch the bus for school. It would be so much easier if I had a car, he thought to himself as he pulled out his headphones. He was practically the only 17 year old at his school that didn't have a car or friends with cars to drive him anywhere. He turned the volume up, blocking out all noise for the rest of the 15-minute drive to his school in an isolated town in Baravia.  
The bus reached his stop and he put in his fare and began to head towards the school. It was still a bit of a ways from the road, and he had to walk a few blocks through the old, run down area of the town to reach it.  
He was about to turn a corner onto the main street when a particularly wet snowball hit him upside the head. He stopped, slush dripping from his shaggy, light brown hair. He could her some loud, obnoxious snickers coming from behind a rather large garbage bin back behind him, and turned around. He automatically recognized the annoying voice of one of the many bullies at his school. He wasn't sure which one; they all seemed to like picking on him.  
"Nice shot!"  
"What a loser."  
"You got him right in the head! What a freak!"  
Kurt frowned. If they were going to make fun of him, they should at least speak quietly so he couldn't hear them.  
"Should I hit him again?"  
"Yeah, nail the bloody bastard!" Kurt cleared his throat and started walking over to the voices.  
"Shut up he's coming!"  
"Shh! Why don't you!"  
"Why don't you both shut up?" Kurt stood in front of the two guys, both bent down and holding their sides from laughing. When they saw Kurt, they broke into a new fit of laughter. Kurt flushed and bit his tongue, cursing himself silently for saying something so stupid. Both of these guys were a lot bigger than his short, 5''5', frame, and he didn't feel like having the shit beaten out of him.  
The larger - and probably stupider, he thought - stood up, still gasping from laughing. "What if I don't want to? What are you gonna do about it, huh?" He pushed Kurt into a wall, a huge smile growing on his face. His friend stood up next to him, snickering.  
"Nothing. Sorry I uh, bothered you. I - I'll just leave," Kurt turned to head towards the school but the stupid one grabbed his shirt collar and heaved him hard against the wall again, causing Kurt to fall to the ground with the wind knocked out of him.  
"No, that's okay," his friend walked over, kicking him in the ribs, "you can hangout with us." Kurt let out a gasp in pain as his head began to spin. Oh Gott, somebody help me. His hands and feet were beginning to tingle painfully, and his spine was throbbing. His head jerked back as something collided with his chin, and he felt his lip split, blood dripping onto the brownish-white, slushy snow. His head reeled, and he felt like he was going to throw up. Please. He looked up just in time to see stupid pull his fist back for a punch. He closed his eyes, readying himself for the blow when there was a sudden rushing noise in his ears and everything went suddenly silent.  
Kurt opened his eyes gingerly, only to have a searing pain tear into his eyes and progress down, along his arms and legs to the base of his back. He let out a strangled cry into the silence. The pain was growing, pulling his spine from his body and stretching it. He brought his knees up to his chin, clawing at the ground, crying out as tears of agony fell off his cheek into the snow.  
In the distance, he could hear faint barking, but it was becoming louder and louder, to a point where Kurt had to grab his ears in and effort to block out the sound. But something wasn't right; his ears felt.pointy? He gulped as another tremor of pain shook his body and he bit his lip to keep from crying out any more. What the hell is going on? What are they doing to me?!? Sharp pains shot downs his legs and feet, and the bones in his hands were making a sickening 'popping' noise. "Stop! Please stop," he could feel his feet stretching, ripping through his heavy boots. "Make it stop please!" He felt something shoot from his spine, tearing through his clothing and coiling around his leg. His eyes burned as more tears streaked down his face. He screamed, every pore in his body catching fire.  
  
Then suddenly it lessened. The burning stopped, and the pain in his limbs subsided. He started shaking horribly, his breathing ragged and shallow as his head began to spin. He could taste the blood in his mouth, and felt it dripping down his chin onto his clothes.  
Shouting and sharp barking seemed to echo inside his head. He opened his eyes a little, to see that he was in a clearing that wasn't too far from his home. In fact, could have sworn he saw the blurry form of his neighbor, Mr. Johannes, running towards him. Thank Gott. He thought, briefly wondering how he had gotten there. He can help me. He lay his head in the snow, closing his eyes as the lumbering form of his neighbor came to his side.  
  
~  
  
Richard Johannes stood, mouth agape at the scene before him. The shivering form of a, skinny, boyish looking thing was lying in a pool of bloodstained snow, while his dog circled its body. But that was not what frightened him most. The thing couldn't have been human. It had to be a monster or demon of some sort. He walked around the body, then picked up a stick and poked it. It didn't move, but let out a soft whimper. He walked closer, bending down to have a look at the things face. He recoiled, seeing pointy ears and long, sharp fangs that glimmered faintly from the Demon's slack jaw.  
He took in a rattling breath, then turned and ran towards his house. He had to tell someone about this thing. It was a monster. They had to get rid of it as soon as they could.  
  
~  
  
Kurt opened his eyes, only to be greeted by a big, wet nose in his face. He grimaced, shoving the dog away and rolling onto his back. His head had stopped spinning, but the muscles in his legs and arms were twitching. And it felt like something was sticking out of the base of his spine. He blinked, watching the happy form of Mr. Johannes' dog blundering around him and licking his face.  
"Ugh, get off you stupid dog," his voice was raspy, and his throat was parched. His mouth felt.weird, like his gums where swollen, and when he moved his lips his teeth rubbed against them strangely.  
He heard some loud, angry shouting coming from his left, and the dog bounded happily off to greet its master. Kurt closed his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows slowly as his neighbor and a couple of his friends carrying shotguns approached. Why is everything so loud?  
"There it is! That's the Demon!" Rang the now confident voice of Richard Johannes.  
Kurt frowned, sitting up and wincing as his muscles protested, unknowingly flashing them a bright, pointy set of fangs. "Uhgn," he groaned clasping his hand to his forehead. He looked up into the horrified face of one of the men who was fumbling to reload his old riffle and backing away from him at the same time. A look of confusion and panic flicked across Kurt's face as he tried to stand up; but fell flat on his butt, a pain shooting up his spine and back down (to his horror) off beyond the extent of his back. He looked down and nearly screamed; a blue, spade- tipped, snake-like thing lay coiled at his feet; or what should have been his feet. Instead there were two large, blue, two-toed things sticking out of his shoes, which where now too tight and were cutting into his ankles.  
He recoiled in horror, looking up only when he heard the click of the riffle. Kurt panicked and took off running - to his and his hunter's shock - on all fours towards where he hoped was his home. A loud gunshot rang out, quickly followed by a sharp phht as the bullet hit the ground a few inches behind Kurt. What the hell is going on? What's happening to me?  
Kurt stumbled, and kept running, then turned sharply into a small ravine, finding cover in some bushes. He panted heavily, trying to quiet his breath and keep hidden from his hunters. What's happening to me? He stifled a sob as he looked down where his hands used to be, now replaced by bulky, three fingered, clawed monstrosities. What am I? Some kind of freak animal? He looked up at the sound of footsteps and froze. They where coming towards him. Kurt shivered, wishing he where home in his bed, safe and warm.  
"Where'd the thing go?"  
Kurt held his breath.  
"I saw it turn this way."  
"Wait, I can see its prints. I think it's over there."  
That's all I am now. An 'it.' Kurt bit his lip, cutting it again and tasting blood.  
"Look in the bushes."  
I just want to go home. Kurt started to shake uncontrollably. I don't want to die.  
The bushes began to part and a leering face peered at Kurt through the leaves. Kurt's eyes widened and he took a sharp intake of breath as the man pointed the barrel of the gun at his chest, hovering just above his heart. There was a rushing sound, a gunshot, and Kurt closed his eyes and put his hands up over his ears, his body tensed. He waited for the pain, but it never came.  
He opened his eyes, and found himself sitting on his bed; messy and unmade just as he had left it that morning. He looked around his room in disbelief. How did I get here? He tried to calm himself down and took in slow, quivering breaths. This is all a dream. I'll wake up any second now and it'll all go away. Kurt closed his eyes, his head was spinning and he felt something that smelled suspiciously like blood trickling from his nose. The adrenaline that had been running through his veins had run its course, and he was starting to notice just how much damage had been done. His feet had grown enormous; the shredded remains of his boots, which had always been a bit big, were cutting painfully into his skin. His hands were torn and bloody from running on all fours like an animal, and his mouth was still bleeding (but not nearly as bad as before) from several cuts. He seemed to be covered in a soft, indigo fur and had somehow ended up with a tail which, apparently, had a mind of its own and was presently entangling itself in his bed sheets. He tenderly set one foot on the floor, holding onto his bedpost for dear life. He balanced himself the best he could, finding it easier to walk on the larger part of his feet near his toes; like some sort of dinosaur. He took a cautious step forward, using his tail for balance and winced as the straps of his shoes got even tighter. Stumbling over to his desk, he found some scissors and cut them off. Then he squatted down on the floor rather comfortably. He put his head in his hands. What am I? He looked at his deformed hands and feet, then irritably glanced at his tail, which was flip- flopping back and forth on the carpet. Too many things where happening to him at once. First the fight, then somehow winding up in the middle of a field, and then turning into a blue furred freak.  
He closed his eyes, trying to keep himself from crying. If the people at school where bad now, he didn't want to think how they would react when they saw that he had turned into some sort of animal. Grabbing the edge of his desk for support, he stood up as straight as he could, spine aching slightly as he stretched out. He had given up on trying to control his tail; it didn't really listen to him anyway and kept thwacking into things then falling to the floor and twitching. And here I was thinking that tails were kind of cool. He snorted bitterly, then headed quietly for his bedroom door.  
He paused and listened, making sure his mother had left for work, then quietly treaded down the hall to the bathroom. He skipped over the floorboard that squeaked, not wanting to make to much noise even if his mother wasn't home. His head had been throbbing something terrible, and he still wasn't sure of what had been the cause of his migraine. Then there was that disappearing thing. He still had no clue what that was, how he did it, and if it had anything to do with his sudden resemblance to a monkey.  
Kurt opened the bathroom door and froze, his reflection looking back at him with an expression that looked like a mix of shock, amazement, and horror. He walked in cautiously and gaped, lifting his hand to touch his fangs and pointy elfin ears. His eyes were now pupil less and seemed t reflect light so they gave off a really creepy glow, like a cat's. So that's all I am now, he started shaking. Just some freakazoid animal.  
Kurt's headache, which had been forgotten temporarily, came back full throttle. Tearing his eyes away from his reflection, he started up a hot bath. He had always been somewhat of a neat-fre-no, not that word-neat- PERson, and not even the recent events could change that. His, dare he say it - fur - was matted with blood and dirt, and he had no idea how he was going to get all of the stains out of his clothes. His mom was going to kill him when she found out. His head shot up at this thought. His parents. How was he going to tell them? How would they react? He had always known that he had been adopted when he was a baby, but would they still want him when they saw what he was? Or worse, would they treat him like an animal? Would they even recognize him?  
He was so lost in his concerns that he didn't realize the bathtub was starting to overflow and quickly shut it of. He sunk into the warm water and tried to relax. It felt really good on his sore muscles, and after a few seconds he started to fell a weird rumbling feeling in his throat. He tried to dismiss it, but when it didn't go away, he got a little freaked. First fur, then a tail, now I'm purring. For Gott's sake, what is going on? 30 minutes of scrubbing and a half a bottle of shampoo later, he decided to dry off and get out of the tub. After all, when the bathwater has turned a disturbing shade of red, it can't really be considered clean anymore. He pulled out the first aid supplies and begun to carefully wrap his cut, bruised, and bleeding hands and feet. When he stood up, he felt a little better (not counting the throb of the headache) and caught his reflection once more. He had lost a lot of weight. He hadn't been 'fat' or anything before, but at least then you couldn't see his bones sticking out everywhere. He sighed and threw his ruined clothes and excess wrappings in the trash after grabbing some pain medication for his headache.  
In his room, he dug through his drawers, looking for some comfortable pants that he wouldn't have too much trouble 'altering' for his tail. After find a pair of old sweatpants and cutting a hole in the seat, he pulled on a long-sleeved pajama shirt and grabbed the 2 painkillers, swallowing them. They began to kick in almost immediately. His parents weren't going to be home for a few hours, and he wasn't sure whether to wait for them down stairs or in his room. Maybe if I wait for them up here, I can try to talk to them through the door before they run away screaming. His head bean to feel startlingly light, and his room was beginning to spin a bit. Wondering idly why his mother kept such strong pain pills, he collapsed halfway onto his bed, fast asleep and purring.  
  
~  
  
Mrs. Wagner walked through the door of her small, country home and collapsed into a couch in the living room. It had been a long day. She glanced at the clock. 6:54. Kurt should be home by now. He was usually sitting at the table or on the couch, greeting her when she got home. Frowning slightly, she got up and wandered into the kitchen, passing by the stairs on her way. She paused however, and backtracked to the foot of the stairs. She had thought she had heard something, and there was a funny smell that seemed to be coming from upstairs. It was almost like.wet dog? Passing it off as Kurt being in some sort of weird 'experimentation' mood, she just headed into the kitchen and started dinner. About a half an hour later, Kurt's Father came home and greeted his wife. Then headed up the stairs to their room. Mrs. Wagner heard him stop in the middle of the hallway, and after a few seconds, became a bit concerned. "Dear? What is it?" He didn't answer. She stopped what she was doing and started to head up the stairs. "Is something wrong?" He was staring at the bathroom, and look of mingled confusion on his face. "Where is Kurt?" He slowly asked, a hint of fear in his voice that slightly startled her. "What do you mean where is he? I thought he was in his room when I got-" she stopped in mid sentence when she saw the bathroom. There was water on the floor, bloody clothing and bandages sticking out of the overflowing trash bin, and what appeared to be blue fur clogging up the bath. She stood there, dumfounded, and her husband finally found his feet and briskly strode over to Kurt's room and rapped on the door. "Kurt?!" He practically shouted, causing Mrs. Wagner to wince. "You had better explain yourself, right now." When he didn't receive an answer, he opened the door, only to step back in horror from the sight in front of him. He heard Mrs. Wagner gave a strangled cry and faint, and probably would have followed suit if it hadn't been for the door that was holding him up. In Kurt's room was a demon, wrapped in bandages and lying, unconscious and purring in a strange contortionist-like position halfway off of Kurt's bed. It didn't show any sign of waking up and appeared to be out cold. He stomached his fear and gingerly walked over to the creature, and prodded it gently. It winced, moaned, and shifted its position then continued purring softly. Mr. Wagner looked Wildly around the room, running a hand through his hair and letting his eyes fall back onto the thing's gangly body. It was really thin. If it had indeed done anything to Kurt, it probably hadn't eaten him or anything. This thing looked like it was starving. He touched its shoulder, flinching slightly, then tried to roll it on its back to get a better look at its face. He nearly jumped out of his skin when it's tail wrapped around his wrist and tried to pull away, but relaxed slightly when the creature did nothing more that purr louder. Whatever it was, it sure was odd. He leaned in inspecting the bandaged hands and fur, but froze when he got a good look at its face. The creature had pointy ears, sharp fangs, and the same fur the he could only assume covered its entire body, but that face was unmistakably Kurt's. His stomach felt like it was turning into knots and he swallowed hard, backing up. That thing couldn't be Kurt. There was no way.  
  
~  
  
Kurt awoke to his parents' voices, softly whispering to each other from across the room. He yawned, stretching his arm out and rubbing his eyes, causing the whispers to stop abruptly. His improved hearing had made their whispers sound a bit louder that usual, and also enabled him to hear his father stand and walk over to the hearth, then over to the side of his couch.  
He growled slightly, hunger pains shooting through his stomach, then rolled onto his side and pulled his knees up to his chin. He felt his tail coil around something soft at the edge of the couch, and heard his father give a rather perturbed mumble. Kurt was just about to fall asleep again when he felt something hard and cold prod his shoulder and he froze, muscles tense. Then it all came back to him. The fight, the pain, transformation, and apparently, his parents had found him before he could attempt to explain things. Scheisse.  
"Sit up." His fathers voice sounded harsh and cold, and he reluctantly pushed himself up, head spinning slightly. He opened his eyes, only to find himself looking down the barrel of his father's rifle. He opened his mouth to try to explain things, when he was interrupted.  
"Where the hell is Kurt?" Kurt was taken aback a bit by the abrupt question. He looked up at his father, who took a step back when he saw Kurt's yellow eyes.  
"Dad?" Kurt's throat was sore, and the word came out very croaky.  
His father ignored what he'd said and pointed the rifle closer to Kurt's head. "What have you done with my son?!" He demanded, voice rising. Kurt's mother was trembling behind him, eyes never leaving Kurt and holding an ice pack on her head.  
Kurt started to get panicky. "D-dad? P-please, let me explain, somethi-"  
"NO! You are not Kurt! You can't be!" He cut him off.  
"Please, Dad, just listen to me!" Kurt hadn't realized that his father was crying, and he stood and started to move closer slowly. "Dad, I don't know what happened, but you have to trust me! It's me, Kurt! Just.please, you've got to believe me."  
Kurt was able to walk up to his father, who seemed to have forgotten his rifle. His mother was sobbing on the couch, and when he looked at her, she gasped a little and shied away. His turned to his father again, who was looking slightly baffled. Okay, maybe not slightly.  
"Kurt?"  
Kurt dropped his eyes to the floor, shaking uncontrollably. He heard the rifle clatter noisily to the floor and flinched at the noise, but was quickly distracted when he was swept up into a gigantic, sobbing bear hug from his father and was quickly bombarded with questions. Kurt was unsure of what to do. Here, he had though his dad was going to kill him, not hug him. He pulled away from the hug so he could breathe, and looked over to his mother, who suddenly looked very old. She was shivering as well, and was hugging herself and giving Kurt plenty of space. "Well," she started nervously, "You seem to have a bit of explaining to do."  
  
~  
  
Kurt had never liked school. In fact, he loathed it. But right now, he would have given anything to be back, animal or not. Not only was he bored out of his mind, he suddenly seemed to have limitless energy since his 'transformation' -as his mother had put it- about a week ago. He hated being trapped indoors like this; he had always lived for meeting people, being around people in general, even if he had never been the really popular guy. He had always goofed off around others, and now the only 'others' that hung around him were his parents, and even though they told him them loved him whether he looked like this or not, their patience was wearing thin. He felt like he was going to drive his mother to an early grave; he had tried that 'disappear-reappear' thing, but had just wound up feeling dizzy and sick, and had taken to the bizarre hobby of walking on the walls and ceilings, another new found 'gift'. Even his father, who had always been pretty patient, was getting annoyed with Kurt's hyper-ness and ability to eat all of the food in the house.  
Despite his gigantic appetite, Kurt still managed to look like a skeleton, but a very limber, acrobatic skeleton at that. It took all of Kurt's will power to not go bounding outside into the snow, and he was starting to feel a little depressed. Not to mention his tail was STILL annoying as hell. It must have knocked over at least 3 lamps in the past week.  
He was actually able to save a fourth lamp from his tail as he walked into the kitchen, and mentally made an effort to stop it from swishing wildly back and fourth. His mother and father were at the table and, to Kurt's horror, talking to a man in a wheel chair. Kurt bolted from the kitchen and up into his room under his bed as fast as his legs could carry him. Hopefully, the man hadn't spotted him. Where his parents crazy? Where they trying to get him diced up in a lab some where? What the hell was that stranger doing in the house? He swore loudly, mostly out of fear rather than anger. What if he saw me?  
  
~  
  
Professor Charles Xavier was concerned. He had recruited young mutants previously, but they had never fled from him before. He could sense that this boy was harboring a lot of fear, but not just a fear of his mutation. He seemed to think that he wasn't even human anymore. "I'm sorry Herr Xavier, Kurt is very, um, nervous around strangers." Mrs. Wagner rose from the table to make sure her son was O.K. He had explained to them Kurt's situation, but they were unsure whether or not to trust him. He pitied these people. Their minds radiated exhaustion, confusion and doubt. Mr. Wagner pinched the bridge of his nose, and spoke softly. "Herr Xavier, I'm afraid I still do not understand. You say you run a school for-" he paused. "-Mutants? And your saying my son is one of these Mutants?" Xavier sighed. "Precisely." "And you expect me to just ship my son halfway around the world to this school for mutants?" "All I am asking is that you give your son a chance to live a normal life with other teenagers his age who are going through the same thing he is." At this, Mr. Wagner scoffed and put his head in his hands. "I doubt many of them has gone through what Kurt has." At this Xavier sighed. He could tell these people were not going to let their son go so easily. Mrs. Wagner came down the stairs, and he thanked them for their time and left a card with his phone number on it, telling them to call if Kurt ever needed any help. As he left he looked up at the house once more. He would have to keep an eye on Kurt. It didn't matter what had happened to the boy; he couldn't stay locked up forever.  
  
~  
  
Kurt was restless. He didn't care if his parents had forbidden him from going outside; he needed some fresh air. Besides, it was dark out, and no one would see him if he stuck to the shadows. He climbed out of his bed and over to his closet, pulling out a large brown trench coat with a deep hood and pockets. He pulled it on over his pajamas, then with a quick glance down the hall to his parents room, he looked out the window. The tire tracks from the wheelchair man's car were still there, despite the light snow. I wonder what they were talking about. His mother had told him not to worry, that the man had not even noticed him and was just there to talk to his father about work, but he was still unsure. He hated to say it, but he didn't really trust what she had said. She had been lying, but why? He sighed and climbed out the window and down the side of his house. The night air was crisp and fresh, and Kurt took a deep breath. He moved onto the deserted road that ran by his house, and smiled to himself. No problem. His grin growing bigger and bigger and his tail was wagging out of the joy of being free. There's no one out tonight. There's no way I'll get caught.  
  
~  
  
Kurt cursed himself. He cursed himself for being stupid. He cursed himself for trying to pull such a stupid stunt. But most of all, he cursed himself for getting caught. Now a mob of about 15 people and growing, all carrying pitchforks and screaming, were chasing him. He ran as fast as he could, first on two legs to try to seem at least somewhat human, but they had gain quickly. Running on two legs was awkward and he had had to revert back to running on all fours. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears and kept running, every muscle in his body protesting from the strain. The yelling got louder, and he turned his head slightly. He stumbled when he stepped on some loose rocks, and scrambled frantically to right himself, tripping and landing on his wrist, which was followed by a loud pop. He had hit his head and blood was dripping down the right side of his face, but he tried to move on anyway, crying out and collapsing when he put weight on his left wrist. Okay, maybe I did a little worse then spraining it. He couldn't move his hand at all, and his arm hung limp with shooting pain at his side.  
Someone grabbed his tail hard and pulled, causing Kurt to howl in anguish. If he had learned one thing this past week, it was that his tail was very sensitive and having it pulled was like having your arm ripped out of your socket. The mob encircled him, hitting him and grabbing his arms, legs and tail rather roughly.  
"Demon!"  
"Grab it! Don't let it get away!"  
"Burn it!"  
Kurt visibly paled, and whimpered. "Wha- wai-n-no, I-I'm not a d- demon, I-I-please no!" They grabbed and bound his wrists and feet as he flailed wildly, then dragged him for what felt like hours till they reach a small village he went to every once in a while with his parents. It was only a 5-minute walk from his home. There was a tall poll in the middle of the square, and he was dragged towards it, people cheering. He was tied to the pole, wrapped up in a rope so tight around his chest he could barely breathe or cry out. They stacked wood up against him, and started dumping oil on his body. Kurt's tail was thrashing out wildly and smacking painfully into things. It wrapped around a man's wrist, and he cried out and hit Kurt upside the head. Kurt's mind was disoriented and swimming. He rolled his head up, and saw that the whole town jeering, pointing, screaming, and throwing things at him. He could have sworn he saw his parents trying to push their way through the crowd. The crowd must have woken them as they passed his house. A man came forward with a torch, and Kurt cowered, sobbing uncontrollably. The wood stacked near his feet lit quickly, and the thick black smoke choked him. He tried to scream, but all he could do was cough. The flames hurt so badly, Kurt just wanted it to end. He could feel his sensitive tail coiling and writhing and the soles of his feet blistering. With a startling cry he teleported, hands and feet still bound, a few feet away from the stake and collapsed.  
  
~  
  
Kurt's parents looked on in horror as there son's lifeless body reappeared barely inches away from the deadly flames. His mother screamed, half expecting the mob to close in on him and smother him, but they didn't. In fact they weren't moving at all. All that could be heard was the popping and cracking of the flame. They pushed forward to Kurt's body, not even sure that he was alive. His was breathing, but it was faint and ragged. They both jumped when they heard a voice behind them.  
"He will need medical attention. I suggest we leave now. I cannot hold them forever." Charles Xavier wheeled forward from the crowd. "he is still alive, but only just. Would you please take him home as quickly as possible? I'm afraid I need to," he faltered. "Explain, things to these people." They nodded silently, and rose, Kurt's father picking him up and running home.  
  
~  
  
Kurt woke up in his room, which was dimly lighted. He shot up, panicked, and nearly jumped onto the ceiling when someone spoke.  
"Good morning Kurt. Or I guess I should be saying good evening." The voice was coming from the man in the wheelchair that his parents had been talking to yesterday. Or was it yesterday? He couldn't remember what day it was, and his head hurt. He started to squirm away from the stranger, but was stopped when he spoke again. "You don't need to fear me Kurt. I'm here to help." Kurt realized that his wrist was in a brace and his burnt feet were wrapped in gauze.  
Kurt spoke, his voice raspy. "Who are you?" The man only smiled.  
"I am Charles Xavier. I run a school for mutants, like you, in America, where they can learn to control their powers and receive an education without the fear of being prosecuted. Kurt blinked.  
"I'm a mutant?"  
"Yes."  
".so.that's why I look like this?" He held up his hands for emphasis.  
Xavier only smiled again. "Yes."  
"And that's why I can walk on walls?"  
"Yes. And teleport."  
"What's 'teleport'?"  
Xavier chuckled. "when you disappear and reappear somewhere else. It's your main gift."  
"Oh." Kurt looked rather dumbfounded, like he had just found out that the moon was made of cheese and the little green men on mars were throwing a party and would he like to come?  
Xavier continued. "I think it would be a marvelous opportunity for you to be with others your own age and have the opportunity to master your teleporting skills. Your parents have already told me that the decision is up to you, and that they will support you no matter what."  
Kurt was completely over whelmed. He wished this was one of those decisions that his parents could easily make for him. He looked down at his hands, frowning. "You said, there were others there. Other mutants." He replied quietly.  
"Yes. I did."  
"Are there any," he stopped for a moment then looked up. "Like me?"  
Xavier knew he was going to ask that question. He wouldn't have needed to read his mind to find out either. The boy's face was hopeful. He had seen Physical mutations before, but none to such an extent as Kurt's. He had had to admit, even he was surprised by the boy's appearance, but he had kept his shock well hidden. Kurt was sensitive enough about his looks as it was.  
"I'm afraid there aren't any mutants presently at the institute who look like you Kurt," Kurt wilted at this comment and Xavier felt a little pity for the boy, but continued. "However, mutants are people, and appearances have absolutely nothing to do with how we are treated. You are a person too, Kurt, and if you are treated otherwise, there will be plenty of hell to pay." Kurt smiled a little. "I only want to help you, Kurt."  
Kurt looked up at Xavier, carefully chewing his bottom lip. He then let loose a huge grin. "Okay. I'll go." Xavier smiled and told him to rest. He was after all still recovering. He was about to leave Kurt's room when he called out, in what had to be the most broken English Xavier had ever heard. "Ich have to practice mein inklish zen, before I go, ja?" Xavier laughed, shaking his head slightly, and closed the door. Kurt was defiantly going to be a handful.  
  
~  
  
FIN 


End file.
